


I've Got Your Back

by manateemuffin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aromantic Phasma, I just have a lot of feelings about Kylux right now ok, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Phasma Ships It, Rey is briefly mentioned but not really, TR-8R cameo, Wingman Phasma, and Kylo in general, this is just fluff and angst pretending to be serious, throw me in the trash compactor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5803462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manateemuffin/pseuds/manateemuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weeks after Starkiller Base's destruction, Kylo Ren contemplates his feelings for a certain First Order general.</p><p>Somehow, he ends up in Phasma's room rehashing said feelings for said general and she somehow manages to end up as his wingman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got Your Back

In the quiet darkness of his room, Kylo Ren mulled over the past few weeks. His hands pressed against his face, elbows perched on his folded knees, focus escaped him. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

It appeared meditation was not an option that night for the Force-wielder. Ren decided he could use a walk around the base instead. His knees creaked with the effort of standing after staying in meditation position for so long. Rolling his shoulders to ease the lingering tension from them, Ren immediately regretted the decision when a searing pain began in his left arm. That Jakku scavenger had done more damage than he thought she could. She had caught him in a moment of weakness, of course; if Ren hadn’t been injured, surely he would have defeated her.

And then he wouldn’t be in this mess.

Making a quiet sound of disgust to himself, Ren shoved away the unwanted thoughts. For now, he didn’t want to think about anything. Especially not that.

Picking up his helmet from its place beside his meditation mat, Ren put it on with a soft click into place, straightening his cloak before stepping outside. The dark hallways of the First Order base were unsurprisingly empty; few roamed the base at 0300 hours standard planetary time. But Ren knew sleep was pointless, and he would get nowhere with meditation with his mind racing a million parsecs a minute. So, for now, he would walk.

As he continued his promenade around the base, the only sound the dull thud of his boots on the polished floors, Ren felt a familiar presence on the edge of his mind and became aware of someone just around the corner from him. Bracing himself for company, the Knight of Ren straightened and tried to look as though he wasn’t in agonizing pain from his many still-healing wounds.

Ren turned the corner and immediately saw the distinctive chrome armor of Captain Phasma walking towards him, her blaster held at the ready as she patrolled the halls.

“Lord Ren,” she greeted with a nod.

“Captain,” Ren said in return, surprised when Phasma approached him and stopped in front of him.

“Is there something you require, Captain?” Ren inquired, curious as to why she was now standing in his way.

“All personnel are to remain in their quarters after curfew unless on patrol duty,” Phasma informed him.

Ren was taken aback by this. Did Phasma, a mere captain, really think she had the authority to tell him what to do?

“I outrank you, Captain. I may walk these halls as I please; curfew is irrelevant,” he retorted, his words coming out clipped and menacing through the voice modulator in his helmet.

“Given recent incidents involving traitorous First Order members, it is required by all First Order personnel to remain in their quarters from 2300 hours to 0500 hours standard planetary time. That includes you, sir,” Phasma answered, matching his tone.

The Force-wielder was impressed. Very few had the audacity to stand up to him. Ren even found himself admiring Phasma a little.

“Very well, captain,” he said. “I will return to my quarters.”

Phasma nodded in reply, but looked as though she wasn’t finished.

“Captain?” Ren prompted.

“Sir?”

“Do you have something more to add?” Ren asked.

“May I respectfully inquire as to why you were wandering the halls at such a late hour?”

Ren immediately tensed at the question. She almost seemed….worried. No one worried about him. Did she have some sort of ulterior motive? Ren saw that he had two options: he could answer like a normal being, or he could tell Phasma that she had no authority to ask such questions and to carry on with her duties.

“I needed a walk,” he answered.

Kriff. Why did I answer?!

“Is everything all right, sir?”

Fuck. Shit. Dammit!

“No.”

SHUT UP! Ren’s mind screeched at him.

Phasma seemed a touch uncomfortable. Obviously that hadn’t been the answer she had expected. Shifting awkwardly, the captain tucked her blaster into its holster before facing Ren again.

“Do you require assistance with an issue?” she asked, arms folded over her chest in a casual rather than menacing manor.

“In a way,” Ren replied, cursing his tongue for seemingly operating without his brain’s consent.

“Would you care to talk about this issue?” Phasma offered.

Ren nodded, feeling his face heat up in shame beneath his helmet. This was ridiculous. It was downright embarrassing. Why on earth was he saying yes? What could he possibly have to talk to Phasma about? What help could she offer him?

“I thought you were on patrol duty?” Ren asked, thanking the Force that he had found an escape from the situation he had somehow gotten himself into.

Phasma was silent for a while before she spoke, but it wasn’t directed towards Ren, and it took him a moment to realize she was calling one of her troopers.

“TR-8R, report to the north-eastern residence corridor for patrolling straightaway,” Phasma instructed over the comlink.

Turning towards Ren once more, Phasma motioned for him to follow her as she walked towards the next hallway over, where the higher-level stormtroopers lived. Following the armored captain, Ren watched as she opened the farthest door. He stood still in confusion until Phasma jerked her thumb toward the door in a symbol for him to enter. Still feeling rather foolish about the whole thing, Ren hesitantly walked into the room, quickly taking in his surroundings.

The walls were painted standard charcoal gray, the floors the same black tile as the rest of the facility. Everything was standard-issue and organized, with the exception of several blasters dumped on the dresser. Ren wasn’t entirely sure how she had the clearance for some of those weapons, which were still in the developmental stages in the tech division, but he made a mental note to look into it when he returned to his own quarters.

It was only when Phasma took a seat in the desk chair that Ren realized an awkward silence had been filling the room since they had entered it.

“Talk,” Phasma said, her gaze staring straight through him even through their respective helmets.

Sighing internally, Ren couldn’t believe he was actually about to do this. But with exhaustion and frustration clouding his usual restraint, he decided it couldn’t hurt to just talk about it.

“Starkiller Base was destroyed weeks ago,” Ren said, taking a seat across from Phasma in another chair. “But it still haunts me.”

“Why is that?” Phasma asked.

Hesitating for a moment, Ren reached up and unlatched his helmet, removing it cautiously and setting it down on Phasma’s desk. Phasma seemed taken aback by this, and Ren realized she had never actually seen his face before. Few in the First Order had, with the exception of Snoke and Hu-

No. He wasn’t going to think about him right now.

Bringing his attention back to the present, Ren ran his gloved fingers over the edge of the raw scar across his face. It was pale and raised, bacta having helped speed up the healing process, but it was still painful. Taking a deep breath, Ren decided to continue to alleviate some of Phasma’s obvious confusion.

“I was in a fight with the girl from Jakku. She and one other rebel injured me, and I was unconscious for some time. I expected I would die. I thought I did, for a moment, but then someone found me,” said Ren, pausing to try to find the right words.

Phasma leaned in, prompting Ren to continue.

“Hux found me,” Ren explained. “He saved me from certain death, and we managed to escape before the base was destroyed. Afterwards, I’ve been feeling so strange around him. Our work has become….difficult, with things the way they are. I believe I may have some conflicting feelings, perhaps between hatred for him as a being, but gratitude for him saving my life.”

The stormtrooper captain pondered his words for a while, thinking them over and trying to find the best way to share her two credits without severely pissing off her superior. Finally settling on something, Phasma decided to remove her helmet. If she was going to get personal with Kylo Ren, she might as well put them on equal ground. Meeting Ren’s eyes, Phasma took a breath before she spoke.

“I think it’s reasonable that you feel indebted in a way towards General Hux. Perhaps if you better describe the exact difficulties of being around him, I can better assess the situation and offer a solution of some kind?” Phasma suggested.

“Very well,” Ren replied, trying to keep his threatening air about him, but failing miserably. “When I am around Hux, everything feels so -.....strange. There’s no other way to put it. He’s insufferable, arrogant, he constantly disrupts my plans, and yet….whenever I see him, I’m somehow glad. It just feels comforting to know he’s there and that I’m not entirely alone.”

Phasma tried to make sure her shock and discomfort weren’t too clear in her face. Clearing her throat to compose herself, the captain said as delicately as possible, “It seems you have some, ah, deeper feelings relating to the general.”

“Yes, I know that, but I have no idea what they mean,” Ren huffed, exasperation tinging his voice.

“Sir, I apologize for being frank-”

“Yes?”

“-But I believe these feelings may be….romantic, in nature.”

“What.”

It didn’t come out as a question. Ren’s expression had gone from confused and contemplative to deadly in 2.4 seconds flat.

“From what you describe, it sounds as though your gratitude towards the general has somehow formed into something more. Seeing as he saved your life, it seems natural that you would feel for him in this way,” Phasma said, completely deadpan.

Ren just stared.

And stared.

And stared some more.

Phasma didn’t flinch.

Ren did, but he would later claim it was simply a figment of Phasma’s imagination.

Then, after a long period of silence, Ren looked down at the polished floors.

“Is….is that what it feels like to….love someone?” Ren asked quietly.

“From what I understand, yes. I can’t say I’ve personally experienced the emotion, but many describe it in the ways you have just now,” Phasma responded.

Ren huffed out a sigh, more to himself than anyone else, and muttered a string of curse words in what sounded vaguely like ill-pronounced Huttese.

“This is a nightmare,” Ren grumbled.

“This is life,” Phasma answered, sitting back in her chair.

“And there’s no way to get rid of it?” Ren asked, hoping for the first time in his life that the captain would contradict him.

“Not that I know of, no. Although I once heard that Chagrians have no emotions, which presumably includes those of a romantic nature. That may have just been a joke, but I’m not very good at detecting those, so I can’t be sure,” Phasma replied.

“I see,” Ren said thoughtfully.

Silence lingered in the air.

“Is there any way I can help, sir?” Phasma asked when the stillness became too much.

“Not that I can think of,” Ren responded, looking deep in thought.

“Very well then. I suggest you rest, sir. You seem tired,” Phasma informed the Knight of Ren.

“Yes, I suppose so. Goodnight, Captain Phasma.”

“Goodnight, sir,” Phasma replied, leading Ren out the door and making sure to hand him his helmet before he left. Replacing the helmet, Ren began the walk back to his quarters, nodding a farewell to Phasma before he left.

Just as Ren was about to turn the corner, Phasma called, “Sir?”

Ren turned around to face Phasma.

“Good luck with the problem.”

“....Thank you, Phasma.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm deep in the Kylux trash and I don't think there's a way out. If you find one, let me know.
> 
> P.S. This is what I stayed up until 4 in the morning doing instead of studying for finals.


End file.
